


Lost at Highway

by taketheblanket



Series: Landsailor x Cloudraker [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: And then multiple orgasms to follow, First Orgasm, IgProm with a side of GladNoct, Light Voyeurism, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mostly porn with a little plot, Oral Sex, This fic uses “cunt” and “pussy” for a trnsmale person, Trans Prompto, game canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taketheblanket/pseuds/taketheblanket
Summary: “I want to kiss you,” Ignis says, like even after everything that’s happened these last few weeks Prompto may still change his mind.Ignis and Prompto finally carve out time on the road to appreciate each other. Prompto ponders the journey the brought them to where they are.A sequel to Sunshine Boy





	Lost at Highway

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ: 
> 
> This fic has a lot of erotica in it. I have broken up the smut into smaller scenes. There are flashbacks of the days between Sunshine Boy (part 1) and the present tense of this fic. If you are not interested in the flashbacks and would just like to read the erotica... 
> 
> ««« means flashback  
> »»» means back to present (aka the smut) 
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s only a motel room, but as Prompto slowly pushes the door open, he sees that Ignis has still managed to set the scene. He’s thrown fabric over the lamps to cast the room into dim light and several candles flicker gently from the table, scenting the room with… 

“Vanilla?” Prompto asks. 

“Correct!” his boyfriend smiles at him. “Lavender, as well.” 

Prompto pauses in the doorway. He hesitates for a moment and then gives into the impulse to snap a photo of the double bed on the near side of the room, covered from edge to edge with a blanket of sunflower petals. 

He will probably delete it later but for now he wants to be able to remember this moment exactly as is, a moment made entirely for him. 

“What do you think?” Ignis encourages. 

“More than I deserve…” Prompto says softly. 

“ _In_ correct,” Ignis says this time, shutting the door behind them. 

Prompto turns around to face him and Ignis is standing inches away, forcing Prompto to look up at him in the way that makes him feel somehow both small and tall at the same time. Ignis brings his hands, ungloved, to cradle Prompto’s face. He does this sometimes, just holds his face and studies him but Prompto still isn’t used to the way Ignis’ undivided attention makes him dizzy, causes his heart pound in his chest. It forces Prompto to stare back into his face, and if he looks for too long he’s reminded that Ignis is too good to be true. He has to set his camera down so he may grab at him with open and restless hands, demanding proof that he is real. 

“I want to kiss you,” Ignis says, like even after everything that’s happened these last few weeks Prompto may still change his mind. 

Prompto pushes up on his toes and kisses him. 

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“Huh?” Noctis asked, incredulous. 

Prompto’s face burnt and he stared back at his best friend, who wore an expression equal parts confusion and concern. 

“Ignis kissed you?” he asked, shaking his head. “ _Ignis?_ ” 

Prompto was taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady his voice enough to speak when the tent flaps were quickly drawn open. Noctis and Prompto both jumped where they sat cross-legged on their sleeping bags. Gladio squat, huge and formidable in the entryway. 

“Back up,” Gladio said in the voice that always makes Prompto freeze. “No secrets in the Crownsguard. Repeat yourself.”

Prompto didn’t want to repeat himself. Mostly he felt like crying, but he knew he was trapped, so he did as he was told. 

“Ignis kissed me,” he said in a weak voice, “In Lestallum.” 

Despite the repetition, Noctis gestured in the air with both hands like he is still unable to process the information. 

“These walls are _literally_ paper thin, Prompto. This is where you chose to have a sensitive conversation?” Gladio said in disappointment, glancing over his shoulder at the edges of the haven, listening for signs of Ignis returning to camp. 

“Well?” Noctis asked, finally finding words. “Did you kiss him back?” 

“Uhh… no,” Prompto said, staring down at where he rubbed his sweating palms up and down his legs, unable to meet their eyes. “I sorta ran away.” 

“You _sorta_ ran away,” Noctis said. 

“I ran away,” Prompto moaned, pulling his knees up to his chin and burying his face. 

“That explains Iggy’s mood these past few days,” Gladio mused. He crossed his arms and turned sideways in the doorway, his attention divided between Prompto and Noctis and his survey of their surroundings. 

“He seems really mad!” Prompto whined. 

He’d been distraught over Ignis behavior the past several days. Well, blame where blame is due--he’d _actually_ been distraught over Gladio and Noctis’ behavior. Prolonged silences punctuated by explosive arguments were only made a hundred times worse by the loss of Ignis’ company. 

“Ignis _kissed_ you,” Noctis said again, beginning to shake his head once more. 

“I should have kissed him back,” Prompto groaned. 

“Look, Prompto,” Gladio said, leveling with him. “Ignis is a grown man. If you’re not interested in him, just leave it be. He’ll move past it.” 

Prompto sighed. Noctis turned his gape-mouth gaze on Gladio. 

“...aaand,” Gladio said gently. “If you _are_ interested in him, you should find a way to show him. He’s not mad at you, but he’s probably embarrassed.”

_Embarrassed._

The word shocked Prompto to his core. He stared at Gladio with wide eyes, but it felt like he was looking right past him to the edge of camp, like he could see Ignis, walking around somewhere outside of the Haven, alone, _embarrassed._ Prompto needed the reminder that Ignis, perfect and impressive Ignis, was just another guy, just like he was, just like Gladio and Noctis were. 

“Oh my god,” Prompto said. 

Gladio and Noctis stared at him while Prompto slowly came to the realization that Ignis kissed him because he _wanted_ to. He was embarrassed because Prompto had _rejected_ him. Prompto gasped, sitting up straight, climbing to his knees. 

“We all deserve a chance to be happy,” Gladio said firmly, like a truth he’s recently accepted himself. 

“Oh my _god,_ ” Prompto said again. 

“What is happening?” Noctis asked insistently. 

“ _I should have kissed him back,_ ” Prompto breathed. “I… I want to kiss him back!” 

Prompto finished climbing to his feet, scrambling from the tent. As he went he could hear their soft voices through the paper-thin walls clear as day. 

“I’m still mad at you,” Noctis says. 

“You’re always gonna be mad at me for something, Noct. C’mere.” 

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It is so relieving to be totally alone with him. _Finally._ After three weeks of kissing beneath the watchful eyes of the daemons in the shadows or the King and his Shield lingering by the fire, Prompto finds four walls and a locked door empowering in a way he didn’t expect. Eagerly, he presses himself against Ignis, accidentally stepping on his toes in the process, but receiving reprimand only in the form of Ignis’ hands steadying him at the waist, his tongue probing even deeper into his mouth. 

He’s been afraid for most of the day, knowing this moment was approaching, but now that it’s finally here desire drowns out everything else, and any residual fear just buzzes like electricity in his fingers and toes. 

Prompto shoves his hands into Ignis’ hair, sweeping his fingers through his soft locks before rapidly dragging his restless hands down the side of his face to his neck and shoulders, wrapping his fingers around his suspenders and pulling him closer. With a sound of amusement into their kiss, Ignis slips beneath Prompto’s shirt and pulls their groins together with his bare hands on his lower back. He can feel Ignis’ arousal reaching for him already and Prompto has to break the kiss to gasp when the sensation causes ripples of goosebumps to paint his skin.

“Darling,” Ignis says to him. “Let’s move to bed.” 

He pries Prompto’s hands from his suspenders and leads him to the bedside. Prompto follows behind him numbly as they officially step over the line they have stopped at every time so far. At the side of the bed, Ignis reaches into his sock and removes the long dagger he keeps hidden there. Prompto uses the moment to unbuckle his hip holster and their blade and pistol join each other on the bedside table. 

Prompto sits down on the edge of the bed, disturbing the flower petals, soft and cool beneath his hands. He stares back up at Ignis before him, handsome and commanding and kind. _Iggy. His boyfriend._

Ignis leans down and kisses him again but Prompto cannot stop looking at him, so he does not close his eyes as Ignis uses one hand gently on his chest to lay him back in the bed, his other hand tugging his suspenders over his shoulders as he comes to hover over Prompto on the mattress. Prompto shoves his hands into Ignis’ hair once more, petting his thumbs over his sharp cheekbones beneath his glasses and gazes up at him in awe. 

All he has to do is follow is his lead. 

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Since the evening that Prompto returned the kiss he had rejected in Lestallum, Gladio and Noctis had become less discreet and much more frequent in their disappearances. Prompto noted that Ignis seemed somewhat put off by their behavior, but it didn’t prevent him from seizing the opportunity whenever the King and his Shield snuck away. And so it began that just the sight of Noctis’ hungry gazing falling on Gladio would make Prompto’s own heart race, knowing what would follow. It had been five days since he and Ignis kissed beneath the haven. They had probably kissed a hundred times since then, if you’re supposed to count each time their lips pull apart before crashing together again. 

“Prompto,” Ignis beckoned. 

He set his camera down carefully on a canvas chair before meeting Ignis by the stove. Ignis placed a lid on the stew and Prompto watched him untie his apron and lift it over his head. He folded it and set it beside the stove. His methodical steadiness only made Prompto’s yearning stronger. With a hand on the center of his back, Ignis lead Prompto away from the kitchen. 

“Is the food gonna be okay?” Prompto asked, but even as he spoke he wasn’t sure why he was trying to slow things down. 

He was still getting used to the idea that he didn’t _want_ to slow things down. 

“It's simmering,” Ignis told him. “It can remain undisturbed for a few minutes.” 

Prompto had no experience to go off of, no reference for what is normal or expected for two men that have recently decided they want to kiss each other. But Prompto did quietly notice things he thought were important, like the fact that Ignis took his gloves off to touch him, and the fact that Ignis has stopped styling his hair with gel in the morning, instead letting it hang relaxed and soft. 

The first time had been an accident. He laid his hands on Ignis’ face while they kissed, like the taller man has done to him a few times before. And suddenly Prompto couldn’t help but pet over his strong jaw and his sharp cheekbones and up into his hair, where his fingers caught in hardened gel and made Ignis yelp. Prompto was mortified that his enthusiasm had hurt Ignis, but the other man had pointedly hushed him, and hadn't done his hair up since. 

Prompto had decided already that he preferred the more undone look about him. 

Ignis stopped a few feet from the range and faced Prompto, who was already beginning to reach for him. Ignis opened his arms and let him step inside. With two fingers, Ignis lifted Prompto’s chin and said, “I'm going to kiss you.” 

Prompto nodded; by now, he knew. Ignis brought their lips together. 

It took only moments before Prompto opened his mouth for Ignis and the other man slipped his tongue inside. Prompto whined in the back of his throat, melting forward in Ignis’ grip until he supported Prompto’s body against his own. They always kissed deeply like this, like they didn't want to waste the few opportunities they managed to carve out of long, strenuous days of hunting and hiding in the underbrush. The tragedy they suffered was still a sharp edge and Prompto fell desperately into these moments of relief. He wished there could be more. 

The four men were still playing a particular game of prudishness around each other, keeping their chairs around the campfire at platonic distances, making a point of stepping away from their partner when they inevitably drift too close. Everyone but Noctis seemed to keep their hands to themselves. Prompto watched with jealousy every time Noct swept his hand slowly across the wide expanse of Gladio’s broad shoulders in the firelight of their campsite. The one time Prompto had repeated the move, Ignis had given him a look. He didn't look angry, per se, but it startled Prompto regardless. 

Luckily, it seems like he's allowed to touch him anywhere if they're kissing, and in an attempt to make up for the hours of the day he can only look, Prompto frantically mapped him out above his clothes, pressed his hands against the larger man and felt how solid and sturdy and real he was. His knees buckled, his head spinning. Kissing made him so weak, but he wasn’t about to suggest sitting on the ground to Ignis, of all people. Ignis usually just held onto him, because he had to, because Prompto would have fallen down if he hadn’t. 

Arousal found Prompto sooner and sooner each time. His cock swelled and his opening widened in a silent request for something he had never considered before. Every time he found himself breathing heavily, pressed against Ignis’ body with his hands getting bolder and bolder, petting as low over his back as he could muster before he dragged them down the front of his slacks, feel his hip bones through the material, let his thumbs press at the the fabric where it pulled taught against a growing arousal Prompto wanted to know more about. He dared to press his hips forward into Ignis’, perhaps stealing one sweet moment of contact with their cocks together before Ignis pushed Prompto away to arms length. 

They looked at each other, panting and red in the face. Prompto’s eyes flit rapidly over Ignis’ body, catching over the telltale shape of his excitement. Prompto wanted to feel him in his hand so badly. 

“Why don’t you have a seat,” Ignis said. 

He slinked away to a canvas chair. 

Prompto couldn’t help but feel the stab of embarrassment every time Ignis told him to stop. In the moments before and during their kisses, Prompto felt nothing but electric anticipation. Afterwards, anxiety and insecurity chewed at the circuits in his chest and made him twitch restlessly in his chair. His arousal lingered for a frustrating length of time, every adjustment in his seat felt like a whisper of something he wanted. Prompto felt like he must be embarrassingly _much_ , and he supposes that he doesn’t blame Ignis for trying to slow him down. 

Tonight, however, Ignis picked up on Prompto’s uncertainty, and after a detour to stir his stew, he approached Prompto in his fireside seat. From this view, Ignis was even taller than usual, and he looked commanding and intimidating as he slipped back into his gloves. He was still buttoning the wrists when he leaned down to kiss Prompto firm and sudden on the mouth. Prompto yelped in surprise but Ignis was already retreating to his kitchen, a smirk painted across his lips. 

It worked though. It was just enough of a reminder that Ignis saw him, liked him, wanted him and his anxiety faded away, leaving him just with the view of Ignis cooking and his own constantly humming arousal. Ignis avoided his eyes while he cooked, which was well and good, because Prompto was studying him hungrily, still in disbelief that someone like Ignis existed, let alone kisses him. Two more times, Ignis wandered away from the stove to place a chaste kiss on Prompto’s waiting mouth and turned his thoughts into static. 

After ten quiet, comfortable minutes of watching him work in the kitchen, Ignis summoned him. 

“Come here.” 

Prompto went to him, and stood on the opposite side of the table. He paused there and snapped of picture of Ignis in the lantern light while he prepared a bite of stew on a fork, letting it cool.

“I believe it is ready. I would appreciate your opinion.”

“My opinion,” Prompto murmured, lowering the camera from his face. The sound of brush breaking on the edge of camp caught both of their attention, and Gladio and Noctis emerged in the firelight just as Ignis held the bite out for Prompto. He hesitated.

“If you would,” Ignis implored, and he was pointing the bite towards his mouth and Prompto’s hands were occupied by the camera and Ignis gave him a direct look that made a Prompto want to obey. 

He leaned his open mouth forward and closed his lips around the utensil Ignis held. Prompto’s face burnt red with embarrassment, but Ignis watched Prompto with gratification. 

The meat was salty and tender on his tongue, he chewed and swallowed. He kept his eyes locked on Ignis, who still leaned towards him over the table with the fork between them. In his peripheral, Prompto watched Gladio and Noctis turn away from them to go fishing through the cooler. 

“What do you think?” Ignis asked. 

“Freaking delicious, as always.”

Ignis hummed contently to himself as he prepped the stew to serve. 

“You're definitely a friend with benefits, Iggy.” 

At this, Ignis made a sound of discontent. He set the heavy pot back down and removed his oven mitts so he may most effectively cross his arms over his chest in disappointment. 

“I…” Prompto began, unsure what he's supposed to apologize for but eager to do so just the same. 

“I’d prefer the term boyfriend,” Ignis said directly. 

Prompto yelped in surprise before clamping his hand over his mouth. A nervous glance towards the fire confirmed that he grabbed the other’s attention anyway. 

“Unless, perhaps,” Ignis said quietly. “I've misread the situation again.” 

“No, no!” Prompto insisted. “No, I'm sorry! I just don't know how these things are supposed to work! I've been calling you my boyfriend in my head,” he found himself admitting, and then immediately he felt his face ignite red. He hid beneath his hand, burying his face in his shoulder.

“I will make a greater effort to explain as we go,” Ignis promised him. “I'm sorry.” 

Prompto peered up at him then.

“Why are _you_ sorry?” 

But instead of answering, Ignis leaned across the table and kissed him. This time Prompto’s yelp of surprise is muffled by Ignis’ lips. He could feel Noct and Gladio’s eyes on him; Prompto hadn’t seen them kiss each other yet. It made him a little excited that he and Ignis were first. Ignis was the one to break it. 

“Help me set the table, Sunshine.” 

“Y-yes, Sir!” Prompto answered, exposed, shaken, _thrilled._

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Ignis wraps an arm around one of Prompto’s thighs and parts his legs so he may settle between them. Ignis spreading him open and filling the space makes Prompto gasp. Ignis is smiling when he kisses him again. A moment later, Ignis presses their swollen flesh together through the layers of their clothes and Prompto gasps again before clapping a hand over his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut. Ignis places tender kisses on his burning cheeks. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Ignis tells him. “Each sound is an accolade.”

Prompto cracks his eyes to peer up at him again. He slowly draws his hand away from his mouth, the sound of his now ragged breathing filling the air between them. The sensation of Ignis’ hardness against his throbbing cock is already too much and Prompto feels dizzy beneath his gentle voice. 

“I’m not sure I have the words to properly describe how it feels to have you beneath me,” Ignis tells him, “after a fortnight of you teasing me with glimpses of your reactivity.” 

“I was afraid maybe… I’ve been too much,” he admits. 

Ignis shakes his head. 

“I have yet to get enough of you. You affect me so. You have no idea how hard it is to stop once we’ve begun.”

Prompto looks up at him in surprise, the words settling into his bones. 

“I desire you, Prompto. In the same ways you desire me.”

Prompto breathes. 

“But I _will_ stop, if necessary.” 

“I don’t want you to stop!” Prompto says, desperately, the suggestion disturbing after finally earning permission to continue. 

“You might,” Ignis says softly, “and that’s okay.” 

With Prompto pinned beneath him in the bed, Ignis carefully explains safewords to him, encourages him to repeat back the meanings of the colors and makes him tap him three times on the thigh, incase he cannot speak. Prompto obeys eagerly and he finds Ignis’ wisdom as arousing as it is comforting, another burst of desire blooming inside of him now that he truly knows there’s nothing to fear. Prompto listens dutifully, and as soon as he thinks Ignis is done talking he chimes, 

“Green, green, green.” 

Ignis’ laughter is a rare treat. He brings their lips together once more. 

While they kiss, Ignis presses him into the bed. Prompto whines in his throat. Despite the weight of the larger man, Prompto decidedly feels like there’s not enough of them touching and Prompto’s hands crawl to the opening at the throat of Ignis’ shirt, his fingers dipping below the fabric to pet over his skin, soft and smooth like the flower petals on the bed that caress his arms and neck. 

Prompto can feel Ignis’ hands working at his buttons, pulling his shirt open, but Prompto cannot watch, his eyes shut against the foreign and unexpectedly overwhelming sensation of Ignis kissing a path behind his ear and down his neck. His hands fall to Ignis’ bare skin, spreading wide over the broad muscle, thumbs petting over the sparse hair he finds there. He keeps his eyes shut until Iggy pulls away, and then he opens them and takes in the sight of him on the bed between his thighs. The dim light flickers over him, bare from the waist up, muscled body on display, his slacks tight at the zipper, kneeling in a pile of yellow petals. 

“Wow,” Prompto breathes. 

“Are you warm?” Ignis asks. 

“Very,” Prompto answers truthfully, his arousal feels like a fever, suffocating and inescapable. 

Calculating eyes study Prompto through his glasses as he pushes his tank top up the flat expanse of his stomach and up over his ribs. He moves slowly, presumably to give Prompto a chance to stop him, but the pace only seems torture Prompto, and he wants to say _hurry up_ though he has no idea what will come next. As Ignis exposes his nipples to the cool air of the motel room, Prompto gasps once more, feeling them perk up. He brings a hand behind Prompto’s neck and helps him sit up so he may tug the shirt over his head. 

His shirt joins Iggy’s on the floor. 

“Magnificent,” he says, watching as Prompto settles back into the bed. The petals are shockingly cold against his heated skin. Ignis looks down at him for a few moments and there is an expression that Prompto has never seen on his face before, something almost like greed betraying his prided stoicism. It makes Prompto burn. 

He wants to feel their bare chests press together, or perhaps Ignis’ sure hands brushing over his now exposed torso, but Ignis surprises him entirely by leaning down and taking one rosy nub into his mouth.

He arches his chest firmly into him, moaning raggedly at the sensation of his lips and tongue as they sweep across the sensitive tips. His cock throbs painfully between his legs but he finds no relief, Ignis’ hips no longer pressed to his. His hands dig frantically through layers of flower petals to grip at the comforter below. Gently, Ignis pries one of his hands free and sets it on the back of his head, encouraging Prompto to cinch his fingers tight in his hair instead. His other hand lands on Ignis’ thick shoulder and he digs his nails into the firm flesh. 

“That’s it,” Ignis whispers against his chest before taking the nipple back between his lips and flicking his tongue lightly across it. “You’re not going to hurt me.” 

“Oh my _gods,_ ” Prompto pants loudly, struggling even to breathe through the waves of pleasure he drowns beneath. “That feels… that’s… Iggy, I...” 

“Splendid,” Ignis says, though Prompto offered him nothing but fragmented thoughts. “Good boy.” 

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Prompto and Noctis were sitting by the fire with a round of beer and a deck of cards while Ignis and Gladio discussed something on the other side of camp in low voices. Ignis met his eyes a few times across the haven and Prompto had a hard time peeling them away, curiosity getting the best of him. Noctis slapped the pile of cards between them, then shoved the entire stack towards Prompto.

“Distracted,” he scoffed. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Prompto asked, looking at Noctis and then back at the other men. 

“Don’t care,” he said. 

Prompto turned to study his face in the firelight. They still hadn’t really _talked_ , not about the war or their parents and not about Gladio and Ignis, not in depth, not like they should. They were best friends, and while Noctis had never been talkative, he at least told Prompto what was going through his mind. Prompto knew Noctis was going through something no one could ever relate to, but he also knew that there is a lot he _could_ relate to and the wall that had recently emerged between them was as frustrating as it was wide. Noctis should know well enough that Prompto wasn’t going to corner him into a conversation about fate or duty. He just wanted his friend back. 

“I never would have guessed we’d both end up with boyfriends,” Prompto tried. 

Noctis stared back at him for a moment before dropping his hand of cards on the table and climbing to his feet. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” he said. “I have a fiance and I have a Shield.” 

Noctis retreated to the tent. 

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“Y-yellow.” 

Ignis stops immediately, pulling away from his chest and leaning to one side of him. He looks only into his eyes and Prompto rushes to explain. 

“It feels good. Really good,” he says. “But I also kind of feel like can’t breathe.” 

Ignis continues to study him thoughtfully. Prompto’s chest heaves, his heart pounding, the chill Ignis’ tongue left behind on his nipples doing nothing to help him catch his breath. Ignis leans down to gently kiss his mouth and Prompto grabs him, seeking the familiarity in the act, foolishly remembering too late that kissing Ignis only makes it harder to breathe and he has to break away, panting. 

Ignis brushes the hair off of his forehead and it gives Prompto a chance to look up at him, rake his eyes over his bare torso in the lamplight, and lower, to the bulge at the front of his pants. Ignis catches him looking. 

“Shall we switch gears?”

Prompto nods, ignorant to what Ignis may have in mind, but willing just the same.

Ignis lay on the bed beside him, one of his legs hooked over Prompto’s and he slides his left arm beneath his neck. His erection lays on his hip and Prompto watches carefully as Ignis begins to unfasten his belt with his right hand. Prompto’s hands fly to his stomach, fingers fluttering over his abdomen as he reaches lower to where Ignis suddenly spills from his open zipper, hard and concealed in grey cotton. 

Prompto groans at the sight. 

Ignis allows Prompto to replace his hand with his own and he brings his fingers up to rest on the side of Prompto’s face, watching him closely as Prompto cranes his head to stare down at the hardness he holds. Prompto squeezes him slightly, shocked by his mass, his girth, the firmness of his flesh. He wants to see more, feel more and he reaches for the waistband of Ignis’ briefs before stopping himself. 

“M-may I?” Prompto asks, turning his face to him once more. He’s taken aback by the slack look on Ignis’ face now that he has him in his hands.

“Yes, darling,” he responds softly. 

As much as Prompto wants to look as he untucks Ignis’ arousal from his underwear, he cannot look away from the expression on Ignis’ face, so completely floored by the sight of Ignis’ lips parting with a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. Prompto strokes him experimentally and Ignis presses their foreheads together. Ignis is heavy and hard in his hand and where Prompto holds him, he can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his cock.

“Show me,” Prompto pleads. 

Ignis captures his hand in his, working both of them over his cock, root to tip until Prompto mimics the stroke on his own. Ignis presses a kiss against his cheek as he settles on the bed beside him, breathing, “good things come to those who wait.” 

Prompto smiles. 

He strokes him while Ignis holds him in his arms, and it gives him the opportunity to look down at his cock, admire the way the aroused flesh is bright pink against his hand. He loves the look of his round cockhead, swollen thicker than the shaft and the way his cock seems to twitch in his grip when he reaches the base again, but Prompto still finds the best view to be his boyfriend’s changing expression. Ignis does not hide his face from Prompto’s curious gaze and he gets to watch him chew on his lower lip while Prompto strokes him, his eyebrows knitting inward with small twitches before his eyes snap shut. 

“Yellow,” Ignis suddenly says. 

Prompto’s hand falls away from him in a moment and he buries his hands shamefully in the blanket of petals on the bed. 

“It’s okay,” Ignis says. “I simply feel like I cannot breathe.”

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It took a couple days for Noctis to realize he was angry, but eventually, he did realize it. 

He was changeable. Prompto knew that. Still, the wind left his sails as Noctis began to transform. In a particularly twisted assault that lasted several days, Noctis would smile at and engage Prompto only to pointedly ignore Ignis immediately beside him. Gladio was surly and silent, unreadable whenever Noctis launched his unfair attacks. At first, Prompto felt bitter about Noctis’ behavior, but soon he began to wonder if he deserved it. Their hunts were long and nearly unbearable and dinner at the haven provided no respite from the constantly thrumming threat of disaster that has followed them since Insomnia fell. The four men sat around the fire at night in silence, and Prompto worried that the four of them were ruined beyond repair. 

Over breakfast one more, Ignis decided he had had enough.

“If you have something you’d like to say to me, Noct, this is the moment.” 

Noctis turned and looked at him, mouth open in surprise. 

“Go on,” Ignis urged. “Say it now, before we endanger ourselves yet again as a fragmented team. Keep in mind we’re poaching Dualhorns today.” 

Noctis set down his fork and crossed his arms over his chest. The two men stared at each other for a few hard seconds. 

“He was _mine,_ ” Noctis suddenly spat. “My _best friend._ ” 

Prompto gasped. 

“Is he not still?” 

Noctis glanced at Prompto and Prompto stared back at him desperately. Noctis looked away. 

“Is it that you don’t think he deserves affection? Or perhaps you think I don’t. Perhaps you’re the only one permitted to seek escape.” 

Noctis grumbled something under his breath. 

“What do _you_ have to say about this behavior?” Ignis continued, turning to Gladio. 

Gladio puts his hands up in the air, tired eyes telling Prompto and Ignis that he’d already tried. Ignis sighed with thinly-veiled exasperation.

“Jealousy is a childish emotion. Prompto is his own man,” Ignis said firmly, leveling Noctis with a pitiless glare. “As am I. Don’t forget the sacrifices the three of us have made to serve you, Your Majesty.” 

Noctis scoffed, but his eyes slide to the ground. Ignis had won. 

A moment later, Ignis speaks again, his voice but a soft shadow of the reprimanding tone he had just used. 

“We are not going anywhere, Noctis. We are with you.” 

With that, Noctis stood up from his chair and abandoned his meal. Prompto turned in his seat to face his boyfriend, and Ignis would not meet his eyes, looking an awful lot like Noctis while he fidgeted with his gloves. After a moment, Ignis stood and began to clear away their dishes. Prompto jumped to his feet, but unsure if he should chase down Noctis or help Ignis, he became frozen in place. He watched helplessly as Noctis warped away from camp. 

He did not return until Gladio hunted him down an hour later. 

However, something had clicked and that afternoon on their hunt, the King and his Advisor synchronised their fighting for the first time in days. They orbited each other on the battlefield, positioned back to back. Surprised, Prompto found himself watching them fondly, the two men executing complicated maneuvers that took them years of cooperation to master. A peace so secure settled over Prompto that despite standing on the edge of a battlefield, he lowered his pistol. 

“Prompto!” Gladio shouted. “Get your head in the game!”

“Oh! Yes, Sir!” Prompto calls out. 

Shaken back into his senses, he planted his feet and sought his opening. 

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“I wish to take care of you first,” Ignis says. “I’m afraid my stamina may be lacking tonight.” 

Prompto narrows his eyes at Ignis in a silent admission of his confusion. 

“I want you to climax,” Ignis says. 

Prompto opens and shuts his mouth and then shakes his head once. Ignis blinks down at him. 

“But certainly… you seem to… you have been seeking…” 

Ignis trails off. He lays a gentle hand on Prompto’s bare stomach and keeps it there, steady and still. 

“Do you masturbate?”

“Um, sometimes,” Prompto says. 

“You are very sensitive,” Ignis notes. “It shouldn’t be difficult to reach orgasm.”

Prompto blushes at the frankness of his speech. 

“Sensitive is sorta the… problem,” he begins, shutting his eyes to the shame. “It just all feels like… too much. I try to touch myself but I get overwhelmed and I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel and I don’t know anyone _like me_ that I can ask,” he says, the words rushing out. 

Where Ignis’ hand lay on his stomach, he feels each of his fingertips press against him, slowly, one at a time. 

“How frustrating for you,” Ignis says after a moment, and his words are kind but there is something thick sounding about his voice so Prompto cracks his eyes open once more and finds Ignis staring down at his body. 

“Allow me to try,” he says, peering up at Prompto over the edge of his glasses. 

Prompto nods. 

Ignis’ hand skates lower, over the thin trail of blonde hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. He pauses for just a moment, and then lays his hand over Prompto’s bulge. His hips involuntarily seek the friction, and Prompto gasps and his body moves on its own accord. 

“Perhaps you should leave your undergarments on to begin,” Ignis muses. “I fear you may be too sensitive without them.”

Prompto can barely hear him through the sound of rushing blood in his ears. The weight of Ignis’ palm against his flesh is so good and he presses himself to it, feeling the pressure build. Thankfully, Ignis doesn’t wait for the response he cannot give. Adept hands open his pants and pull them over hips and Prompto just lays beneath him and lets Ignis remove his pants and shoes, until he lays in the bed of flower petals in nothing but his boxers, his cock hard and aching at the absence of Ignis’ touch. 

Then suddenly Ignis is back, looming over him once more and Prompto wraps his arms around his shoulders and kisses along his jawline. He can smell his aftershave and for some reason it is the masculine scent of him, not his near nudity, that makes him feel exposed. He closes his eyes. A moment later, Ignis’ hand moves to cup him through the damp cotton of his boxers and both of them groan as they make contact. 

“Iggy!--” Prompto cries in surprise. 

Ignis kisses him, his mouth open and wet and Prompto presses into it eagerly, not sure what else to do with himself while Ignis’ fingers explore between his legs, trace the outline of his dick through the thin material that conceals him. Ignis moves with a confidence that eases Prompto despite every adjustment of his fingers making him twitch and writhe on the bed. After a few seconds of mapping him out, Ignis takes him in his palm and starts to stroke him slowly and suddenly Prompto cannot feel the details of his individual fingers or his wet boxers or even how exactly Ignis is touching him. It is almost like he goes numb, but it’s the exact opposite of numb, it’s everything, all at once, swelling between his legs. 

Prompto breaks away from the kiss to moan and the sound of his own pleasure surprises him. Ignis looks pleased and Prompto’s eyes trail down from his face to watch his bicep pump as he works his arm and lower, to actually watch Ignis fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking him through his underwear. Ignis occasionally pauses to massage his palm gently around the mound of him and Prompto catches him licking his lips. It feels incredible, and every time Prompto thinks it’s about to be too much, Ignis changes his technique and it begins to build again. His thighs begin to tremble. Ignis’ hard and naked cock rests on Prompto’s thigh. 

“Fuck,” Prompto whines, tossing his head back in the bed. 

“You can speak,” Ignis says to him. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“ _Amazing_ ,” Prompto breathes.

“May I bring you closer?” 

“Yes.”

Ignis lowers his mouth to his chest once more. He flicks his tongue lightly over one nipple and Prompto gasps. The pleasure building in his groin suddenly rushes upwards to meet Ignis’ mouth where he closes his lips around the nub and begins to suck. Ignis is touching him in two places but it feels like everywhere at once, and Prompto feels like he’s drowning. 

“No, no, no!” he exclaims. 

Ignis freezes, but his hand remains gently cupped over his flesh and he looks up at Prompto from where he still hovers above his chest. 

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” Prompto says. “It feels good. I think. It feels… like a lot.” 

“It will build,” he says. “Almost impossibly so.” 

“It made me nervous.” 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Please, no. I want you to keep trying, but I don’t think it’s going to happen without me babbling like an idiot.”

“No isn’t _red_ ,” Ignis says pointedly. 

“I don’t think I was feeling red,” Prompto answers truthfully. 

Ignis studies him for a moment. Softly, he speaks. 

“Close your eyes. Try to envision you’re at Galdin Quay, standing in the ocean.” 

Prompto obeys. Barely a month past, it’s easy to recall the memory of the first time he stepped foot on an ocean shoreline. He had let the water flood his boots as he trudged into the sea with little regard for his fatigues. Tragedy yet unstruck, Prompto vividly remembers the feeling of standing on the edge of the world. 

Slowly, so slowly, Ignis begins to massage him once more. 

“The pleasure is like a tide,” he tells him. “You can try to resist it, or you can float on the surface of the waves,” he says, and he speaks with a cadence that lulls Prompto even further.

“I need you to float.” 

At his command, Prompto finds it isn’t hard to do. The petals on the bed lick at his bare skin just like the water did and the feeling of the mattress dissolves beneath him as Ignis strokes him fully once more. He does what Ignis says, he floats on the waves of pleasure, allows them to lift and move his body even though it makes him dizzy when it happens. Ignis leans over him, warm like summertime.

“What’s your color, Sunshine?”

“Blue,” Prompto answers, and then he realizes his mistake and his eyes pop open, laughing at Ignis’ perplexed expression. “Oops! Green. Sorry, I was thinking about the sky.” 

Ignis chuckles and the deep sound of it encourages Prompto to shut his eyes. It takes him by surprise when Ignis begins to mouth at his chest once more. 

“God!” Prompto gasps. “Oh my god.” 

He feels the waves of pleasure once again rushing forth from Ignis’ hand between his legs, crashing over his chest where Ignis kisses him and Prompto begins to hyperventilate, dizzy and drowning beneath it. 

“No no no,” Prompto murmurs. “No no.”

This time, Ignis doesn’t stop. He pushes Prompto right past the churning riptide of his fears. With his eyes shut, Prompto cannot tell which way is up, but he does not dare to open them now; he can practically feel the warm sea climbing up around his thighs as Ignis pushes him deeper in the water than a boy who doesn’t know how to swim should ever go. 

He kisses tenderly back and forth across his chest, tugging on his swollen arousal with defy and steady strokes.

“Iggy, no! No, no.” 

And right when the sensations are almost too much, right at the moment Prompto thinks he must bury his feet in the sand and resist, the blood rushing in his ears sounds just like a wave that sweeps him off his feet and sends him careening to shore. Prompto feels it happen as if he is plunging into the ocean, tumbling endlessly beneath the surface. He feels his entire arch body off of the bed, unimaginable pleasure radiating from where Ignis pumps his cock throughout his climax. His heart pounds and his chest heaves and a few tears slip from his eyes, unnoticed by Ignis, who milks the last of bliss from his chest with a tongue that feels like electricity. It takes a long time for Prompto to resurface and when he finally does he cannot remember if he was loud or if he had been holding his breath or what region they’re in or what his own name is. 

“How was that?” Ignis asks. 

Prompto opens his eyes and looks blearily up at him. 

“Holy. Shit,” Prompto says breathlessly. “I’ve… I’ve been missing out.” 

Ignis grins down at him, broad and shameless. 

“I can do it again,” he says. “Let me do it again.” 

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It had been three long weeks since Insomnia fell and Ignis determined they laid low long enough. Noctis was practically cheering as they pulled into the outpost. The motel and diner glowed with neon lights that beckoned the men like open arms. Camping lost its charm rather quickly and three times in as many days, they'd been descended upon by Magitek Assassins. It had been a sobering reminder that a roadtrip with friends had somehow transformed into a war. 

They deserved a night beneath the daemon-halting lights to relax, unwind. 

“Let's go to the Crow’s Nest!” Prompto suggested, eying the advertisements in the windows. “Stuff ourselves with diner food!” 

Ignis shot him a look from the driver’s seat as he put the car in park. 

“Aw, come on,” Prompto said to his boyfriend, sweetening his tone against the perturbed look on his face. “I just want a milkshake.” 

Ignis tutted as he climbed from the car. 

“Had you told me you liked milkshakes I could have made you one certainly better than the one you’d get there,” he said. 

“Everyone likes milkshakes!” Noctis groaned. 

“Highness has a point, Iggy,” Gladio said. 

Ignis waved his hand dismissively at them. 

“Noct, can you fill up the Regalia? Gladio and I will get a table.” 

Prompto cheered, throwing a fist into the air. 

While Noctis used the pump, Prompto took the opportunity to snap a few photos of their surroundings, the sky orange and pink and purple above them. Noctis leaned against the car and followed his lens upward. The dense stars had already begun to freckle the darkest bits of sky directly above them.

“It's getting dark already?” Noctis asked. 

“We must have driven all day,” Prompto mused. “Time flies when you're having fun.”

“Hm,” he says. The pump clicked and Noctis put the spigot back, but instead of moving towards the restaurant, he leaned against the car once more. Prompto shrugged and took a few more photos as the light receded and the landscape transformed. 

“Are you looking forward to a bed tonight?” Noctis asked conversationally. 

“Heck yeah!” Prompto said. “The Haven rock doesn't quite live up to a mattress. Plus, I'm dying for a real shower.”

Noctis made a sound in the back of his throat. Prompto turned to face him. 

“What?” Prompto asked. 

Noctis just shook his head, but the way he bit back a grin told Prompto exactly what he missed. 

“Ah!” Prompto gasped. “Oh, I-- I don't know.” 

Noctis just shrugged, nodding towards the restaurant. Prompto saw Gladio standing in the doorway, a single finger hooked towards them. Noctis took off before Prompto could process. 

He followed behind him numbly. After the confrontation, the men had only just gotten comfortable being couples around each other. All of it happening, it seemed, with Ignis at the bridge, steering them by example, refusing to indulge any petulance on Noctis’ behalf whenever his mood would pitch. It became routine for Ignis to kiss Prompto goodnight or in thanks when he set the table. Noctis seized the opportunity to be even handsier with his Shield, but despite the few times Prompto caught Noctis looking at him from where he sat in Gladio’s lap by the fire or the time he turned around in the Regalia to find both of his hands laying on Gladio’s thighs, they had yet to actually _talk_ about what's going on and now Prompto’s naivety had cost him the chance. 

He kicked a rock in frustration. 

His mood didn’t last long. Gladio suggested a toast to the King, and one round turned into two. Their quiet appreciation for modern comforts evolved into eager retellings of recent battles, alcohol and safety painting the once frightening situations into epic and inspiring tales. 

By their third round, the men were laughing a little too loudly, but they were the only patrons in the establishment and the barkeep didn’t seem to mind. The multiple rounds were costing them their hunting money, after all. Prompto was glad to see the group choosing to blow off steam and enjoy each other’s company violence-free. They needed a chance to decompress once in awhile if they were going to make it through this. 

Halfway into his third drink, Prompto watched Gladio put his arm around Noctis and the act caused a pleasant warmth to flood his body, bringing with it a sentimental attachment to the men around the table. He cared so much for all three of them. Noctis leaned into Gladio’s touch and Prompto couldn’t help but press his thigh against Ignis’ beneath the table. He felt like something exciting was happening amongst them. He was thrilled to be along for the ride. 

Prompto bit back a gasp when Ignis’ hand found his thigh out of view. Prompto stared straight ahead, trying to pay attention to the story Gladio is telling, but all he could hear was a gentle murmur of his voice through the blood rushing past his ears. Ignis slowly ran his hand up and down the length of Prompto’s thigh.

Suddenly Gladio went silent. Based on his expression, Noctis was doing something… similar. 

“I’m gonna play a round,” Noctis declared. 

Gladio followed him from the booth. Prompto and Ignis both watched as Noctis inserted a coin and leaned over the pinball machine. Gladio came up behind him and Noctis pushed up on his toes so Gladio could pull their hips together. The image they made pumped a jolt of arousal through his body. Suddenly, Ignis squeezed his thigh and Prompto met his eyes. 

“Let me kiss you,” he said. 

And it didn't matter that they're sitting in a public place, because he had three drinks and Gladio and Noctis already crossed a line and Ignis began to pet his thigh soothingly beneath the table once more. 

“Of course,” Prompto breathed. 

When they break for air, Gladio and Noctis have disappeared from view. 

“Mm,” Ignis hummed. “No restraint, those two.” 

Ignis kissed him again and this time he didn’t ask. Prompto’s breath caught in the back of his throat and he turned on the bench and folded a leg underneath himself so he could get closer to Ignis, press his tongue forward to request access. Chuckling, Ignis gave it to him and their tongues met in the same sudden way that aroused desire in Prompto every time. Prompto’s hands fell to his chest and Ignis brought a long arm to wrap around his shoulders. 

Ignis was a good kisser. Not that Prompto had anything experience to go off of, but Ignis did things with his tongue and teeth and lips that made Prompto whimper and gasp in surprise at how good it felt. Ignis’ experience was like a warm blanket wrapped around him, all Prompto had to do was follow his lead, and Prompto felt like Ignis was leading him closer and closer to a place he’d never been, but desperately wanted to go. 

He knew that Ignis handled his alcohol exceptionally well but Prompto suddenly felt very drunk in comparison. Drunk enough not to hide his open interest in the tenting of Ignis’ slacks. Drunk enough to drag his hand down his stomach to lay it over the big hardness hiding there. Drunk enough to squeeze his hand around him in bold curiosity.

Ignis took his wrist in his large hand and pulled him away, gripping him firmly in warning. 

“I know, I know,” Prompto said apologetically. “I should show some restraint.” 

Ignis loosened his grip on his wrist and laced his fingers between Prompto’s instead. 

“Prompto, darling,” he said. “I don't take pleasure in stopping you.” 

Prompto stared at him. 

“Would you like to get a room tomorrow evening? Somewhere private, where I don't have to, where we can take our time.”

“A… a room?” Prompto repeated, his heart pounding nervously, wondering if the booze was making him imagine things. 

“We can send the King and his Shield away--”

“Are you saying--?”

“--Only as far as you want.” 

“I want to but--” 

“--I’m sorry if I am rushing things,” Ignis said, suddenly rambling. “Dancing with death lately perhaps has me--”

“Ignis,” Prompto said, squeezing his hand, his own anxiety suddenly calmed by the desire to handle his. “I do want to. It's just that, I.. I am…”

He trailed off, unable to finish. 

“A virgin?” Ignis asked. 

Prompto cheeks burnt.

“Um… yes,” he answered, sheepishly. “But that's not what I… I’m…”

“Transgender.” 

Prompto blinked in surprise, and then nodded. 

But of course, he realized, Ignis must have known. He probably did a background check on him back in _high school_. He's known all this time. Ignis stared back at him, studying his face, and it felt like Ignis’ sharp eyes behind his glasses were challenging him to find a single moment the man had mistreated him. 

Drunk on excitement and alcohol, Prompto tipped forward and kissed him firmly. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, their foreheads together, “I wanna do it, with you.” 

“It will be an honor to be your first,” Ignis told him. 

Prompto wanted to say something about _only_ , but he bit his tongue. 

“Right where we left you,” Noctis said, appearing beside them. They separated in their surprise and Prompto immediately blushed at the possibility that Noctis had heard what they were discussing. Gladio appeared a moment later. They both look disheveled, their hair messed and their faces glowing. Noctis, visibly drunk, smiled at Prompto where he still sat in the booth beside Ignis. Relief washes over Prompto; he felt like it’d been weeks since he saw his best friend’s smile.

“Lovebirds are too busy staring into each other’s eyes,” Gladio teased. 

Ignis looks Gladio up and down and shook his head at him in flimsy disappointment. 

Ignoring him, Gladio asked, “You guys gettin’ tired? The bourbon’s making me sleepy.” 

“Are you certain it's the bourbon?” Ignis challenged. 

Noctis chuckled, but it breaks off into a yawn. Gladio clapped a hand on Ignis’ back and grinned. 

“Motel room tonight, yeah?” Noctis asked. 

Gladio punched Noctis in the arm and the smaller man stumbled far enough that Gladio had to then catch him. 

“It shall be the camper,” Ignis said, counting Gil out on the table. “We drank away our motel room for tonight. We’ll need to hunt tomorrow. Regardless, it certainly seems like you can make do one more night,” Ignis said, giving him a head to toe look. “Go unpack the car, I’ll add the camper to the tab--” 

“Ahh,” Gladio started, interrupting him. “We already uh, made use of the camper.” 

Noctis sniggered, Gladio shook him in his hands where he still held onto him. Ignis sighed. 

“I don't appreciate the deception, Noct,” he said, rising from the booth and offering Prompto a hand. Once on his feet, he was surprised to discover how drunk he actually was. 

“I suppose I should be pleased it wasn't the restroom.”

“Started there,” Noctis murmured, nudging Prompto in the ribs as they exit the diner.

Prompto is stunned by the open acknowledgement, the easy way the three other men seem to navigate the subject of sex. Prompto suddenly felt like he's awakening to a new part of adulthood that he hadn't really understood yet and he was eagerly drinking up every glimpse he's offered. Tomorrow he would formally join them. He walked a little wobbly and hoped not all of his courage tonight had been liquid.

His excitement built when he realized that sleeping in the camper meant he and Noctis would share the very bed he had sex with Gladio in moments before. Prompto had no idea how far things go when Noct and Gladio disappear from the haven, but he can only assume they made good use of an actual bed. Prompto was almost drunk enough to ask him directly, but the group was walking closely together and he definitely wasn’t drunk enough to ask in front of Gladio or Ignis. Noctis held Prompto around the waist while they walked, even after he found his footing. 

“A good day,” Noctis said.

“Three drinks are too many for those boys,” Gladio mused to Ignis from behind them. 

They collapsed into bed. Ignis and Gladio settled onto the kitchen bench and the floor, respectively. Prompto ran his hands curiously over the sheets, unsure what he was feeling for. The camper bed was small, and Noctis’ warm feet bumped against his calves. Prompto met his eyes and Noctis had been watching him, smirking softly. 

“Time for some shuteye,” Gladio said from the floor. 

“Goodnight,” Ignis responded. 

Noctis kissed his own fingers before pressing them firmly to Prompto’s mouth. 

“Night, buddy,” he said. 

“G’night, Noct,” Prompto said fondly. 

Despite the soft mattress beneath him and the alcohol in his veins, Prompto laid awake for hours before finally falling drifting asleep. 

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Prompto already is so broken in by his orgasm that it feels almost like nothing when Ignis slips his fingers beneath the elastic of his boxers and tugs them down, leaving him completely nude on the bed beneath his boyfriend’s studious gaze. He just lays there and lets him look and he doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable or anything except soft and submissive and _his._

After years of lonely frustration and aimless arousal and the assumption that there was something fundamentally wrong with him, Ignis took him in his hands and unearthed the treasure inside. 

Ignis’ big hands wrap around his thighs and at this point, Prompto would let Ignis do anything to him, as long as he keeps making him feel this way. Ignis spreads his thighs open and the air is cold on his wet cunt and slick inner thighs. His cock, alert and red reaches up through dense curls of dark golden hair. 

“You are radiant.” 

Prompto blushes. Ignis stares openly at him, seemingly enraptured, stroking his own cock. His eyes flit back to Prompto’s face, studying him for a moment longer before he removes his glasses and sets them on the bedside table. His eyes widen in surprise as his foggy brain catches up to what Ignis plans to do and there is no moment Prompto can ask for clarification before he leans down and kisses his cock. 

“Ignis!”

His boyfriend looks up at him and his eyes are uninterrupted by glass, aqua like the sea and it is so shocking to see him like this, mouth open against his cunt, his nose pressed into his thicket of hair. Prompto cannot see it but he feels it when Ignis wraps his tongue beneath his cock and pulls the sensitive flesh into his wet heat of his mouth and Prompto cries out raggedly. It’s a sound almost like he’s in pain, but he’s not in pain, he’s sure of it. 

He works his tongue over and around Prompto’s cock and it feels almost as good as the orgasm had, but he knows it’s only just _begun_ to build. He is exceedingly sensitive but Ignis is sucking on him so gently that there is no discomfort, only heat and pleasure radiating through his limbs from the source of Ignis’ illicit kiss. Prompto moans loudly, his stomach quivering as his hips lift from the bed, rolling his cock against his tongue. He can see the corners of Ignis’ mouth turn up in satisfaction while he works. 

Once again, Ignis finds Prompto’s wrist and brings his hand to the back of his head and Prompto instantly knots his fingers in his hair in a desperate attempt to hold onto _some_ part of him now that the rest of him is kneeling between his spread legs. His hips lift off the bed a second time and Ignis catches him there, supporting his lower back with his big hands and pressing more deeply into his sex until Prompto can feel his nose and his chin buried in his wetness. Then suddenly, Ignis’ tongue explores the edges of his weeping entrance and Prompto finds himself grunting through another impossible burst of pleasure, fingers cinching tight in Ignis’ hair as he presses his cunt up into the sensation. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he moans. 

Ignis’ eyes are on him, skating down his elevated body to lock into his own and Prompto is panting and whimpering as Ignis’ tongue probes inside of his hole. His legs spread wider, muscles straining, his body desperately and involuntarily inviting Ignis inside. Ignis shifts beneath him, moving so that he easily supports Prompto’s lower back on one hand. He watches Prompto for any signs of reluctance but Prompto just lay dazed as Ignis brings a single finger to his cunt and breaches him to the first joint. 

“Ah--” Prompto gasps. “Please.” 

Ignis’ expression softens from his mask of calculation into pure affection. He removes his fingers and Prompto laughs weakly in disbelief to see Ignis lick his flavor off his fingertip, as if he hadn’t already gotten enough of it when he had his cock in mouth or his tongue up his cunt. 

“You don’t seem to need it, but for precaution…” Ignis muses, the thought uncharacteristically trailing off as he slides two fingers between his lips, turquoise eyes still locked on his face, chin shiny with his slick and his boyfriend’s saliva. 

Prompto has to stop watching him. It’s all too much. He throws his head back in the bed and throws his arm across his face, breathing raggedly into the quiet of the motel room as Ignis slowly brings two fingers inside of him. Years ago, Prompto had tried this on himself, but it had felt like nothing.

It doesn’t feel like nothing now. 

Every inch Ignis slides inside of him feels like an answer to a problem he didn’t know he had and he can barely adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being _full_ after not having known he was _empty_ for so long. Once inside of him, Ignis circles his tongue around his aching cock once more and Prompto can tell he’s about to fall apart beneath Ignis’ affections. He hopes he doesn’t mind. 

Ignis takes his erection into his mouth and sucks on him fully. Prompto moans, _loudly_ , and he can _feel_ Ignis chuckle around the meat of his cock in his mouth and even that feels like too much. He rocks up into him, presses more deeply in his mouth, swallowing his fingers as deeply as he can. He’s feels like he’s already there, at the crest of the wave, but it will not break. It continues to pull him backwards, further from shore, until he feels truly lost at sea. He presses his elbow hard across his eyes, blinding himself to everything but the pleasure Ignis seems determined to drown him beneath. 

Ignis presses the pad of his fingers up against Prompto’s soft walls, stroking him until Prompto gasps and cries out, and then he falls still once more, applying firm pressure to whatever it is inside of him that he had been looking for. The magnification of his pleasure is instantaneous, and only a few dizzying moments later, Prompto climaxes again. He sees stars and cannot stop himself from shouting out into the motel room while he spills himself for the first time. 

He can feel himself empty into Ignis’ palm, and it must be dripping down his wrist and into bed beneath them, but Ignis doesn’t seem to mind, stroking him with his fingers and his tongue until Prompto is weak and quivering and trying to squirm away from him. Only then does Ignis carefully withdraw from him and set his hips back down into the bed. 

“You’re quite vocal,” Ignis says, “thirty feet was a poor estimate.”

Prompto begins to laugh. 

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He fired a last shot and watched the beast collapse to the ground. 

He was exhausted, and he didn’t feel like his legs could keep holding his body so with a great sigh, Prompto dropped to his ass and surveyed their claim from the land. It wasn’t the hardest gig they’ve taken, but Prompto was definitely a little hungover and running on only a few hours of sleep. He was glad the hunt was over, and he was quietly hopeful it would be the only one they had to do today. He was eager to get back to the outpost, rent a room, take a shower. Ignis had quietly pulled him aside that morning and asked if he had meant what he said when he was drunk. Prompto had said yes. So there’s that making his knees feel weak, too. 

“An overall success,” Ignis decided, overlooking Noctis as he swept heavy bags of Garula meat away into his armiger. “We deserve an afternoon of leisure.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Noctis said. 

“I advise we spend a few days here, hunting and replenishing our supplies, before continuing onto Lestallum, Your Majesty.” 

“Your wish is my command,” he declared. 

The drive back to the outpost wasn’t long, but for some reason the feeling of the Regalia eating away the distance between him and the motel started to fill Prompto with dread. He couldn’t help but look at Ignis’ silver hands wrapped around the steering wheel. He hadn’t changed his mind about wanting those hands on him, but he was anxious about all of the details left unsaid. 

Just as the thought entered his head, Ignis addressed the group. 

“From four to six p.m. tonight, you will stay away from the motel room. Prompto and I would appreciate some privacy so we may be intimate.” 

A shocked silence rippled through the car. Prompto gasped and then shrunk in his seat, staring straight ahead despite the pull of Noctis’ gaze from behind him. 

“You will stay a minimum of thirty feet away from the room within those hours and you will relinquish your room keys to me.” 

Noctis broke the silence with a scoff. 

“Fine! But then Gladio and I get the room from six to eight.” 

Gladio grunted in surprise.

“That’s fair,” Ignis says. “Perhaps a schedule will keep you two from getting distracted.”

“We’re not that bad,” Gladio insisted. 

Prompto gave in and turned around to face Noctis, who was laughing in the back seat. Ignis glanced at Prompto, like he may see Noctis by proxy. 

“You two could benefit from a dinner date where you do more than eat and fool around. Make sure you seize the opportunity to actually talk to each other, for once.” 

“We talk!” Noctis said defensively, his laughter gone. 

Gladio grunted again. 

“You need to talk _more_. We all need to talk more. Everything has changed.” 

The way he delivers the statement made Prompto turn back to search him, but his eyes were glued to the road. Prompto knew he said _everything_ that he meant much more than just their relationships. Their lives would never be the same, and Prompto was well aware that more so than anyone else, Ignis was stressing their next steps. 

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Gladio said, before leaning forward to slap a heavy hand on Prompto’s shoulder and jostle him. “Have fun, Prom.” 

Prompto gulped and shrunk in his seat once more. 

They parked at the outpost. Prompto felt like his knees might buckle as he climbed from the car, but the mortifying moment seemed to pass with no change to the other men, and four of them slipped into polite debate over who got to shower first. 

Back in the room, Ignis pulled Prompto aside. 

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” he said. 

Prompto shook his head. 

“No, I understand why you did it,” he assured him. 

“We must set the example. I can’t let us lose sight of the mission,” Ignis told him. 

“You won’t, _Captain._ ” 

Ignis reached up and set his gloved knuckles gently against Prompto’s cheek. 

“I’m going to need a few hours of preparation,” Ignis said. 

“Okay.” 

Ignis kissed him. Prompto’s hand lingered on his chest when he pulled away. 

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“I know you won’t believe me,” Ignis says, crawling up the length of his body to hover over him. “My fantasies had not anticipated how exquisite you are.” 

Prompto scoffs, but he is still laughing uncontrollably, his body flooded with endorphins and his heart impossibly full. He loops an arm around him shoulders and buries his face in Ignis’ neck, unable to find any words amongst his awe. Ignis pets his hair and kisses his temple and Prompto can feel him touching himself, his knuckles running lightly over Prompto’s bare stomach as Ignis strokes his cock. Shakily, Prompto reaches between them to replace Ignis’ hand with his own, wrapping his fingers firmly around his astonishingly hard flesh. 

“I want to do that,” Prompto says to his, catching his breath. “I want to put my mouth on you and make you cum.” 

Ignis doesn’t respond right away. His head falls to Prompto’s shoulder and he leans there, his breathing slow and steady while Prompto pumps his cock the way he showed him. Prompto turns his face to his and without his glasses on, he can watch the way the high planes of his cheekbones begin to mottle red. After a few moments of just appreciating the size and shape of him in his palm, Prompto quickens his pace and is delighted to make his boyfriend gasp. Suddenly, Ignis’ firm grip is wrapped around his wrist.. 

“Please,” Prompto says. “I wanna blow you.” 

Ignis groans, and though he holds Prompto’s hand still, he fucks himself a few times into where his fingers still curl around him snugly. Prompto whines, a shock of arousal exploding through him at the feeling of Ignis rutting into his hand. 

“Very well,” he says, his voice strained. “Best hurry.”

Prompto scoots to the edge of the bed, sweeping dozens of sunflower petals to the floor as he goes. Ignis grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and throws it down on the floor before Prompto can drop to his knees, holding his hands and guiding him to kneel on top of it. Ignis situates himself on the edge of the bed and traps Prompto inside the cage of his long legs. 

There is a brief moment where Prompto is shocked to be in position, even though he had been the one to request it. Still, kneeling between Ignis’ legs in his birthday suit hadn’t been something he expected to happen when he left Insomnia, and with every day the creeping suspicion grows that they may never return. Immediately, his constantly lurking anxiety finds a foothold, and he can’t help but wonder if the only reason Ignis wants him is because there’s nothing else left. 

Suddenly, tender fingers caress his face and Prompto looks up at him. Ignis has recovered his glasses and is watching Prompto with concern. He grasps his erection in one stationary hand and chews on one side of his lower lip. 

“Are you alright, darling?” 

“Yes!” Prompto answers, giving him a smile.

He brings his hands to Ignis’ thighs, and then reaches for his erection. Ignis lets go of himself and then both of his hands are stroking over Prompto’s face and hair. He works Ignis with long, steady strokes and he hears the other man moan but he does not get to see it, his eyes falling shut as Ignis sweeps his thumb over Prompto’s lower lip. 

“You have been so good to me,” he says huskily. 

Prompto opens his eyes and looks up at Ignis on the bed, naked and hard and watching him. His mouth hangs open and he can see his bare chest rising and falling as he breathes. Prompto swallows and then leans forward and takes the head of his cock in his mouth. 

“Ah... “ Ignis groans. “Prom…” 

His cockhead is plump and salty and the way it fits in his mouth is surprisingly satisfying. Even more so satisfying is the way Ignis is so immediately affected. From his view in his lap, Prompto can watch Ignis’ face change and his stomach clench. They stare directly into each other’s eyes and an ache like sadness fills Prompto’s chest, and he feels foolish for it, because Ignis makes him nothing but happy, but he thinks maybe he deserves the sadness instead. 

“I treasure you.” 

Ignis is cradling the back of Prompto’s head with one hand. The other strokes tenderly down his cheek and lower to feel where his lips wrap around his cock. His words make something tight in Prompto’s throat and he has to pull off of him for a moment. He strokes him in the absence of his mouth while he looks up at him but Ignis stops his hand with his own. Leaning over his lap, he kisses Prompto with soft, damp lips. 

“Sometimes it feels like you were sent here for me, designed to be mine,” he says quietly, speaking the words against his mouth. “It is a selfish fantasy to entertain.”

“Iggy…” Prompto sighs against his lips. 

“But I do,” Ignis whispers. “Entertain it.” 

He gasps, need suddenly blooming inside of him once more with Ignis’ possessive hum. Prompto lowers his head and takes him into his mouth, pumping his shaft in his hand. Ignis sighs, long and low. His hand finds the back of Prompto’s neck and he pulls him closer. Prompto’s hand falls away from him as he scoots further in between his thighs. He wraps his arms beneath Ignis’ thighs and he grips the meat of his legs when Ignis takes over his cock. Each time he strokes himself to his mouth his fingers linger affectionately on Prompto’s lips or jaw. 

“You did such a extraordinary job cumming for me tonight,” Ignis tells him. 

Prompto gasps, and he feels the words in his cunt, pulsing and reminding him of the nirvana Ignis delivered to him. He opens his mouth and takes as much of Ignis as he can, pressing his tongue firmly against him, tasting the flavor of his precum. He likes the thick flesh in his mouth and he likes the way it makes him feel dirty to be engaging in the act, especially noticing the way Ignis continues to transform the longer he does, the way his voice has become heavy and his eyes narrow and fierce. 

He does his best to recreate what he’s seen in porn, kissing and sucking and tonguing at Ignis’ cock. He can’t be doing too terrible a job, because Ignis is breathing heavily and pumping himself urgently and he can feel his thighs flex and release, flex and release within his grip. 

“So good for me…” 

“That's all I wanted,” Prompto says, pulling off of his cock and taking a moment to breathe. He lets his lips lay softly where Ignis bumps his cockhead against them. “To be good for you.”

“You always seem to be giving it your all, Prompto.” 

“I figure if I don't know what I'm doing, I can at least give it my best shot.”

“Your inexperience is a turn-on,” he says simply. 

Prompto opens his mouth to speak but shuts it again, unsure of what to say. Instead he brings it to his erection once more. Ignis sighs, long and low when he kisses the tip and Prompto watches him intently while he drags his tongue along the underside of his cock. 

“Naturally gifted,” Ignis says huskily. 

His words make Prompto pant and he has to fall still, just clutching Ignis’ cockhead to his open mouth while the other man strokes himself. His own spent cock begins to ache, eager despite all the attention it’s received, falling victim once more to Ignis’ aura.

“Yet, utterly untouched.”

Prompto whimpers as desire blooms inside of him, hot and lethal, his thighs jumping open where he kneels beside the bed. Frantically, he wraps his mouth around Ignis, scrambling even closer between his legs where he kneels on the floor. Ignis tuts softly, a tender hand falling to his cheek. Prompto gazes up at him and Ignis lowers his hand to his chest, encouraging him to back up with a gentle tap. He obeys, reluctantly, and is shocked by the reward of Ignis’ leg between his thighs, cool skin pressed up against his slick and heated cunt. Prompto groans and his legs buckle. He melts to the floor, Ignis’ foot flexed firmly against his wet cock. 

“I can make you entirely mine,” Ignis tells him. 

He leans over the side of the bed, pumping himself steadily, the smooth head of his cock bumping gently against Prompto’s lips. He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue and Ignis smiles wickedly. He moves his foot, just slightly, beneath him and Prompto moans raggedly around his cock. In one motion, his body set entirely aflame. Ignis’ hand comes to the back of his neck and he grips him there tightly, quickening his pace on his cock. 

“An internal compass,” he says. “A diamond mind.” 

Now that he knows what he’s looking for, it’s easy for Prompto to find the path to release. He only barely rolls himself into Ignis’ ankle, still sensitive to touch from his last two orgasms and even moreso weakened by the possessive way Ignis speaks to him, the feeling of his leaking cock kissing his tongue. It’s enough, more than enough, too much and Prompto peaks a third time and he moans throughout it, limp and draped over Ignis’ thigh. 

“So much untapped potential,” he says, full of satisfaction. His voice breaks on his next words, “Allow me... to teach you.”

Prompto is capable only of lifting his head enough to keep his mouth beneath Ignis. His boyfriend is stroking himself fast, thighs visibly quaking, his breath coming short and clipped through nose while he bites his lower lip. 

“Prompto,” he says urgently, “I must--”

\Ignis’ hand is firm on the back of his neck and he moves to pull Prompto away from him. Prompto flattens his tongue beneath him and shakes his head. With his index finger, he points at Ignis’ cock and then points at his own tongue and nods. 

“Fuck.” 

Ignis grunts, hard and quiet, and Prompto is so lost in the glassy look of his eyes when he cums that he hardly minds the taste of him as he empties onto his tongue. Ignis’ hand slows and then he lowers his softening cock from his face, watching him as Prompto shuts his mouth and swallows. He sighs audibly, vocal and relaxed, and he only releases the nape of Prompto’s neck when he takes his face in both of his hands. 

“Sorta bitter,” Prompto says, making a face up at him. 

“The Ebony, perhaps…” he muses. 

Ignis pulls Prompto up to the bed and sits him in his lap. Prompto shoves his hands into his hair and Ignis kisses him until he can no longer, pulling away as Prompto begins to laugh uncontrollably once more. 

They have nearly an hour before they have to abandon the room. The two men shower together and lay nude on the bed, kissing each other easy and languid with sunflower petals clinging to their damp skin.

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Once they were settled in, the men left the motel to scatter about the outpost and kill the afternoon. Four P.M. loomed before Prompto, both too far and far too soon. 

“Come on,” Noctis said. Prompto turned to face him and Noctis was swatting at Gladio where the Shield ruffled his still damp hair. He shoved Gladio away and approached Prompto. “I wanna go fishing.” 

“Catch and release,” Ignis told them. “We already have more fish than we can realistically eat.” 

“Keep an eye on him,” Gladio instructed. 

“Yes, sir!” he called back, jogging to catch up to Noctis who took off without waiting for him. 

He was grateful for the distraction. He kept trying to tell himself he’s excited, but right now all he felt was fear. The walk to the fishing hole was long, but there were lots of things to shoot photos of and Noctis seemed to be in a good mood. 

When they found the lake, Noctis wasted no time casting his line and Prompto found a fallen tree to sit upon and watch. He took a photo of his silhouette against the water. 

“I have to admit,” Noctis said out to the lake, “Of all the things Ignis manages, I never expected my sex life to be one of them.” 

Prompto choked and it took him a few moments to gather himself. He was glad Noctis was facing away from him. 

“It was just a little upfront,” Noctis continued. 

“He’s worried about everyone,” Prompto told him. “He wants to make sure we’re behaving reasonably.”

“Six, you’re even starting to sound like him,” Noctis said, the whir of his reel spinning after his words trail off. 

Prompto bit his lip. Noctis glanced over his shoulder at him. 

“I’m not complaining,” Noctis said. “I’d much prefer two hours in a bed to fifteen minutes by a river.” 

He casted, turning to face the water once more. 

“Gonna be… ya know, the first time,” Prompto divulged. 

“That makes sense.” 

“I’ve been wanting it so badly,” Prompto said with some shame, “but now I’m just afraid.”

“Don’t be,” Noct said to him, “you’ll be with Ignis.”

A fish bites and Noctis gasps in excitement, paying out the line. “It’s Ignis, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably… incredible,” he said, gesturing reluctantly with shoulders, his hands occupied on the reel.

He knew Noct was right. Ignis was certain to make him comfortable every step of the way. He just hoped he would be as good for him, as good as he deserved. 

“I’m… glad we’re talking about this,” Prompto told him. “It’s exciting, but it’s been lonely too.” 

Noctis only nodded, but after years of learning how to read his terse companion, Prompto was able to see right through to the apology he wore on his face. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Prompto asked. His hurt on the subject still lingered just beneath the surface. “You didn't tell me, even after I came to you about me and Ignis. _Why_ , Noct?” 

Noctis shrugged, pulling the small fish up onto the dock. He brought it up to his eye level and stared at its little fish face for a few moments before unhooking it and tossing it back into the water.

“I didn’t have the words to explain.”

Prompto looked at him. Noctis busied himself by switching the lure at the end of his line. 

“How long?”

“It started three days after we left Insomnia,” he told him. “You kept flirting with Gladio. I got jealous, I got drunk, I kissed him.” 

“I was not flirting with Gladio!” Prompto defended. 

“Yes you were,” Noctis laughed. “Prom, you flirt with everybody.” 

Prompto blushed, but he supposed he couldn’t argue it considering what happened with Ignis, after all. He fussed with his camera. 

“I should have told you,” Noctis said suddenly, “once I did have the words. But you would have told Ignis and I just couldn’t… risk him making me stop when Gladio was already fighting--.”

“I wouldn’t have told Ignis!” Prompto complained, interrupting him. 

“You would have!” Noctis laughed again. “You look for any excuse to talk to him. You’ve been obsessed with him since high school.” 

Prompto’s face burnt impossibly hotter. He wasn’t wrong. He had always been intrigued by Noctis’ Advisor, though he thought it had been merely reverence or respect.

“I didn’t even know I was… interested in men,” he murmured. Noctis gave him half a smile before looking away once more. 

“I should have just told you,” he repeated. “Of course he was going to find out eventually, though I still don’t know _when_ he did.” 

“He walked in on you guys,” Prompto said. “In the hotel room at Galdin Quay.” 

“Of course he tells you everything too,” Noctis sighed. 

“He didn’t make you stop,” Prompto pointed out. 

“Yeah,” Noct said. “I misjudged him.” 

They fell into thoughtful silence for Noct’s next few casts but there were no more bites. 

“I’m your best friend, Noct,” Prompto finally said. 

“You’re my best friend too, Prom.” 

“I just want you to be happy.”

Noctis disappeared his rod and turned to face him. 

“I think I’m about as happy as I’m gonna be. Are you happy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

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It's their first night in a real bed since they first kissed and Prompto realizes with excitement that there will be no sleeping bags keeping him from the impulse of crawling towards Ignis and burrowing inside of him. The simple idea of Ignis holding him while he falls asleep is almost too much, especially after everything that happened tonight. Prompto’s skin is still sensitive beneath his clothes with the memory of Ignis’ touch. 

Prompto pulls back the coverlet. Ignis had since converted the room back to its regular skin, but everyone knows what happened in this bed today and Prompto can't help but feel like Noctis is watching him as he lays down on it. Prompto wonders if he looks any different. He certainly feels different. 

Ignis flips the light switch and is the last to go to bed. Prompto waits for him beneath the covers, lightly trembling. As always, Noctis and Prompto occupy the inside sleeping positions, surrounded and defendable. He lays on his side facing the other bed and now he can see for certain that Noctis is watching him, the whites of his eyes unmistakeable in the darkness. 

The bed dips as Ignis climbs onto the mattress. 

A foolish part of Prompto has been worried that Noctis thinks he’s copying him by deciding to have sex with Ignis, though he knows the loss of his virginity was only inevitable with the way things have been going these last few weeks. Despite the reassuring conversation by the lake, he still worries that maybe Noctis thinks he’s rushed into things, or that he’s making a mistake. 

And then Ignis slides up behind him and presses his chest to Prompto’s back, his big hand coming to rest on Prompto’s ribcage and he decides that doesn’t _care_ what Noctis thinks. He certainly doesn't have the right to judge him. He knows what’s happening between him and Ignis is real and true and Prompto decides to allow himself feel this joy, just like Noct is, just like they _all_ deserve to amongst this war. 

Noctis’ eyes fall shut. Prompto closes his too. Ignis’ hand flutters on his side and Prompto sighs, melting into his touch, searing even through his shirt. Ignis calls him _Sunshine_ but Prompto feels like Ignis is undoubtedly the one made of fire. 

He finds himself rolling back into him, eating up the few inches Ignis had left between his stomach and Prompto’s lower back, and now he can feel every breath Ignis takes against him, slow and steady. The sensation comforts Prompto in a way he cannot put words to. He takes Ignis’ larger hand in his own and tugs it further around himself, wanting to be fully wrapped in his arms. 

Ignis immediately recognizes the signal and communicates with Prompto through silent taps on his shoulder so he may slide his left arm beneath Prompto’s neck and wrap the right around his stomach. Repositioned, they settle back into the bed and sigh in unison as their bodies align once more. There is so much of Ignis touching him and Prompto feels like he’s screaming in his mind _I had sex today_ and Ignis. 

Prompto opens his eyes, seeking the silhouette of Noct in the darkness, curious if the other two men are also embracing each other. He thinks he sees the shape of his slighter frame flopped over Gladio, but he can't be sure. Ignis kisses the back of Prompto’s neck and his lips part in surprise, his eyes falling shut as chills shoot up his spine. He is still so sensitive from the explosions Ignis delivered him earlier in the evening, every point of contact they make is starting to rapidly feel like too much. 

And at the same time, _not enough._

Two things happen at the same time. It begins with Prompto extending his legs and reaching towards Ignis where they aren't touching. He wants to fit their bodies together head to toe. There is another shift to reposition and at the very same time their hips press neatly together, Ignis’ fingers blindly sweep over his nipples through his shirt. Prompto’s entire body reacts to the double sensation. His skin burns and he grows wet and his cock starts to pulse. He gasps, involuntarily pressing backwards into Ignis’ flesh, feeling the soft mound of him settle between his thighs. 

Ignis freezes for a moment, lifting his hands apologetically from Prompto’s chest and hip, but it is too late. This isn't like it is camping, where Ignis can deliberately put distance between them when Prompto gets too worked up. Ignis can't walk away right now and Prompto is no longer working off of just curiosity. He has _experience_. He clutches at himself through his boxers desperately with both hands, willing the throbbing in his cock to ease, but only making matters worse when he finds himself grinding back Ignis’ flesh. Instantly, Ignis begins to grow hard against him and Prompto can feel his wetness soaking through his underwear, slippery on his fingers. 

Ignis brings his hands to lay on his body once more and the fingers on his left hand drag back and forth across Prompto’s chest as it heaves with his breath. Prompto gasps again, louder, the sound breaking into a moan and Ignis’ hand jumps away from his chest to clamp over his mouth. Prompto freezes, his eyes snapping open in the darkness. He stares at the outline of Gladio and Noctis’ bodies in the bed, looking for movement or white eyes in through the night. Prompto knows he's in trouble but his heart still pounds and his cock still aches and Ignis isn't pulling away where his now full erection separates the halves of Prompto’s ass. 

Ignis finds Prompto’s thin wrist with his right hand and pulls it back to rest on Ignis’ thigh. He uses his fingers to help Prompto tap the side of his leg three times. Prompto understands, and he nods desperately where Ignis’ hand is still securely over his mouth, catching the gasps and whines that threaten to escape with every additional second they spend with their bodies pressed together. Shutting his eyes to their company, Prompto squeezes Ignis’ thigh beneath his hand, silently begging _please please please._

Ignis keeps his left hand pressed firmly over Prompto’s mouth as he brings his right hand up to his chest, tenderly, gently, just barely laying it over his heaving breast. Prompto moans but the sound is swallowed up. He digs his nails into the thick muscle of Ignis’ thigh, pressing his ass back into his hardness, his other hand still applying pressure on his own swollen flesh. 

_Iggy, Iggy please,_ he says, pressing the words uselessly into his boyfriend’s muffling palm. Ignis hears him or feels him anyway, because he lays his right hand more surely over his chest, his fingertips crawling lower to tease one of his reaching nipples through the fabric of his t-shirt. 

Prompto cries out and Ignis tightens his hand over his mouth even more so, pulling him back firmly into his grasp, hooking his chin over Prompto’s shoulder and pressing quiet kisses to the parts of his face that are not covered by his fingers. Slowly, so slowly, Ignis begins to press his erection forward into Prompto’s waiting ass with steady rolling of his hips and the motion is subtle but the mere _suggestion_ of Ignis finding his way inside is too much, too much, _too much._

The pads of his fingers play over Prompto’s stiff nipples, alternating between teasing flicks and broad sweeps of his entire hand across his chest. He finds himself both pressing back into Ignis’ lap and reaching forward with his chest. The pleasure, as it has done all day, consumes his entire body, makes his blood feel hot with electricity. There is no doubt in his mind that Ignis is going to make him climax again, for a _fourth time._ It's like he is trying to make up for lost time, give him everything he's been missing. 

_Ignis. Ignis,_ he moans against his muzzle. He has Ignis’ flannel pants bunched in his fist but he still presses his knuckles firmly into the meat of his thigh. His other hand cups his wet cock through his soaked underwear and he doesn't have to-- rather _can't even_ massage himself with the pleasure Ignis is drawing from his chest already more than he can possibly bare. 

As the tide of pleasure begins to pull back Prompto is swept away with it. He can no longer feel his body, just Ignis’ single expert hand petting across his chest, silent lips kissing a trail from his ear to his shoulder and back, Ignis’ fingers slipping, _just slightly,_ into Prompto’s mouth before Prompto begins to whine and he has to muffle him fully once more, Ignis’ chest rising and falling against his back, swaying his body like the sea. Prompto opens his eyes one last time and they lock on the shape of Noct’s slumbering body just a few feet away. Just before the crash of climax takes him Prompto indulges in one selfish thought: 

_There is no way Gladio has ever made Noctis feel this good._

It takes a few moments for Prompto to stop whining and catch his breath and Ignis waits to release him until he's quiet. As soon as he does, Prompto rolls over in bed, shoving him to his back and untucking his cock beneath the covers. Ignis, unlike Prompto, is capable of staying silent and so Prompto just places soft kisses all over his face and neck and collarbone until he feels him holding his breath. Prompto kisses his mouth where he worries his bottom lip and Ignis releases a long sigh against him as he bursts into Prompto’s waiting hand. 

Ignis moves to get out of bed but Prompto stops him. In the bathroom, he washes his hands and drags a damp cloth between his legs. Back in the bed, Ignis gathers him in his arms and doesn’t let go. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, he can see Noctis draped across Gladio’s chest, his fingers curled through the Shield’s long hair. 

As the sound of Ignis’ steady breathing lulls him to sleep, Prompto ponders the rules of love on the open sea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ^^ 
> 
> Please come yell at me on twitter @taketheblanket 
> 
> As always you to my beta and the love of my life: beforethequeen


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